Your name.

Seeing it shine under the bright summer stars brought back treasured memories that had been buried for long…

A stolen moment in the Harbor Bar parking lot. Lunchtime drives in a Periwinkle Neon. New York. The smell of patchouli of cigarette smoke. Tattoos. Your wistful grin and the conversations that we couldn’t have with anyone else.

Your voice.

Hearing you call my name opened a door that had been softly shut for years. Your words told me the things I wanted to hear and what I always wanted to know… that it mattered. That it was real. That you still think of me.

When you said it did, I was flooded with a bittersweet that cut my paper heart into a million little pieces. All the love, hurt, hope, pain and laughter rushing through me at the same time.

Your face.

Your eyes saw right through me, taking my breath away like a punch to the gut. No one has ever looked at me the way you did. They are still as deep as than the ocean, pulling me toward you like a riptide. The ache that was always just below the surface was still there.

I wanted to fall into those eyes to show you that you are enough, that you deserve so much more. I wanted you know that you are are a shooting star, even when the world made you feel the darkness between them. I always hoped it was me that made those eyes fill with purpose, love and happiness…
I always wondered if I should have done more.

Your strength.

They say love is giving someone the ability to destroy you and trusting them not to do it. It makes my heart break to know that you that you’ve experienced that devasting hurt, for years, maybe forever… but you’ve never given up.

I wanted to save you from all that pain, but that was selfish of me. You didn’t need that, you just needed to be heard. I always prayed that there were people in your life that you could trust enough to share your struggles. Your love for Wynter is a proof that you have.

You.

The one that showed me that distance means nothing when you mean everything. The one who still makes my heartbeat so fast, even after 25 years. The one I bleed myself dry for.